On Being Irish Part 2

Posted on February 24, 2014 by Dubai Mum

The other day at work, I was speaking to an Irish/Scottish friend who said a word that I, as an Irish expat, have not heard or used in eons.  The word was ‘messages’.  Any guesses as to what that might mean????  To us Irish, it means ‘groceries’, a list of groceries which need to be purchased.

I swear I haven’t used that word since 1996!  When I did, the German/American person to whom I was speaking looked at me with a contorted facial expression that truly belied her utter confusion (and suspicion that I just might be a lunatic).  Well educated, well travelled, she had no clue to what I was referring.  And now, I can see why!  How do you get from ‘groceries’ to ‘messages’????

My recent conversation with one of my kind (or at least half of my kind!) got me thinking about other aspects of my language/vocabulary/behaviours I have adapted in order to be understood in an expat world.  Having departed my homeland almost 20 years ago, the usual suspects crop up and require translation!

The letter ‘R’ is pronounced ‘are’ and not ‘or’

The letter ‘H’ is pronounced ‘aitch’ and not ‘haytch’

A pint of Genius = A pint of Guinness

Amadan = Fool

Banjaxed = Broken/not working

Be Gosh and Begorrah= No translation needed anywhere in the world!

Bog = Loo

Bogtrotter = A person from the countryside

Bold = Naughty

Bucketing down = Raining heavily

Built like a brick $hit house = Built like a body builder/monster/tank

Cod = To tease/joke/kid

Culchie = Someone from the countryside as opposed to the city

Delph = Crockery

Dry Shite = A boring person

Eat the head off = Verbally attack

Eejit = Idiot

Feck = self explanatory!

Flah’ed out = Very tired

Fluthered = Very drunk

Gawk = To stare

Giving out = Telling off

G’way outta dat (that) = Don’t be silly

Go through someone for a short cut = An even more serious telling off (seems we do a lot of telling off in Ireland!!!)

Gobshite = Idiot

Gobdaw = Gobshite (see above)

Gone in the head = Crazy

Grand = Lovely/fine

Hammered = Very drunk

Header = Crazy person

Head the ball = Header (see above)

Holliers = Holidays

Holy Show = Utter embarrassment

Hooley = Party

Hot Press = Airing cupboard

It was greaat craic = It was great fun

Janey Mack = Gosh

Jammy = Lucky

Jaypers = OMG!

Jaysus = Not exactly praying to Jesus…..

Kip = Nap

Kitchen press = A kitchen cupboard

Knacker = Pikey

Knackered = Shattered

Mitch = Skip school

Moth’ = Girlfriend

Nixer = Job done for cash in hand

Not giving a fiddlers’ feck = Not giving a damn

Ossified = Had more than one too many

Perishing = Freezing

Pictures = Movies

Pissed = Annoyed

Quare (a distorted version of ‘queer’) = Very (used for emphasis)

Raging = Furious

Scab = A person who constantly borrows money/frugal

Shenanigans = Goings on

Shift = To snog/kiss

Sloshed = Drunk

Stop the Lights! = No way!

Tear a strip off  = A serious telling off

The Black Schtuff = Guinness

The jacks = The loos

Thick = Stupid

To be sure, to be sure (must be repeated) = Of course

What’s the craic? = What’s going on?/What’s happening?

Wrecked = Exhausted

Wet the baby’s head = Celebrate the birth of a baby with a drink of the alcoholic variety

And that’s just some of the Irish slang!  Just writing this post has forced me to dredge my memory for sayings and phrases that were a part of me and my everyday life.  I now have to focus intensely to recall them.  As much as I enjoy living in melting pots, be it in Dubai, Hong Kong, London….nothing brings a smile to my face as quickly as someone who throws out those Irish phrases without a care in the world as to whether they will be understood or even misunderstood!

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School narcolepsy

Posted on February 23, 2014 by Dubai Mum

Really feeling the pain!

Circles in the Sand's avatarCIRCLES IN THE SAND … Marianne Makdisi

So from the high that was Amsterdam, comes the bump of real life, and dealing with a problem that presented itself just before half-term.

You know something’s not right when you get a call from school asking you to pop in. I duly did so, the very next morning. And while everyone I spoke to couldn’t have been nicer (or more helpful), the writing was already on the wall.

My son fell asleep (twice) at school.

He denies it, of course. Son2 is not stupid and knows sleeping at school is frowned upon. He has an elaborate story about his friend L telling him to lie down on the grass outside and close his eyes. When the teacher found him snoozing on the little, landscaped hill, he was actually awake and just playing a game, he claims. Hmmm, nice try!

It’s possible, I suppose (a pig…

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On Being Irish

Posted on February 23, 2014 by Dubai Mum

On being Irish causes a lot of friction in our English – Irish household (alphabetically put!).  Irish Mum.  English Dad.  DD and DS1 born in London.  DS2 born in Dublin.  All now living in Dubai.  For the kids, Dubai makes up the majority chunk of their tender years.

For as long as I can remember, DS2 has insisted that he is fully, 100% Irish.  He does not entertain the thought that there is an ounce of English blood in his scrawny 6 year old body.  Indeed he seems quite repulsed by the suggestion that this is the case.  His rationale is that ‘if you are born in Ireland, you are fully Irish’.  Having parents from different countries is irrelevant.  So, following his thinking his siblings are English (something which they are happy to agree with, but which I suspect is more out of a feeling that they have potentially more international sports teams for which they could play compared to those which their Irish genes could offer!).

Each St. Patrick’s Day, I send the kids to school with treats and a little info on why the Irish celebrate March 17th.  They skip to school excitedly with a tricolour of balloons, tagged with Irish blessigs, and of course a sugary treat to share with their friends.  Last year a teacher (with an Irish sounding name) said to DD:

‘I didn’t know you were Irish!’

As quick as anything the little Madam responded:

‘I’m not.  I’m English‘!

St. Patrick would turn in his grave!!!

Back to DS2.  The fact that the country of birth is irrelevant in determining nationality is a difficult concept for a 6 year old to comprehend. But he is adamant he is Irish and only he and I are the true blue Greens.  The fact that all 3 have Irish passports is lost on him!

He wants to be the future Johnny Sexton of Irish rugby. He wants to play for Donegal’s Gaelic Football team.  He wants to be the next Liam Brady of international Irish football.  For such a small country, he has so many heroes and icons to look up to, and aspire to be.

At the end of the day, I honestly think it is more about colour preference.  He likes ‘green’ (Ireland).  ‘White’ (England) for him is ‘meh’.

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Redundant Mum in Dubai…

Posted on February 20, 2014 by Dubai Mum

A few weeks ago when my boss told me they could no longer afford to keep me on, my first thought was  ‘Are you serious? Have you seen the deadweight you are carrying?’.  My second thought was ‘Thank you for putting me out of my misery!’. My third thought was ‘Does this mean I have to change the name of my blog to ‘Redundant Mum in Dubai??’.

When I shared the news with my office roomie, he congratulated me heartily on not having to put in another 6 months to protect my end of service gratuity (the equivalent of my pension!), and expressed his envy that I would no longer have to enter an office where all hope is abandoned on walking through the doors!

Once I got over my adolescent tantrum of ‘Whatever I was going to resign in 6 months anyway‘, all of those things I wished I had had time for over the past 4+ years began to tickle my imagination, and slowly transformed into real possibilities.  Daydreams and faraway wishes were within touching distance.  At this point I just didn’t know where to begin!  In no particular order:

  • Finish writing the books I have started writing!
  • Start the other books I have in my head;
  • Needless to say, be more consistent in blogging!
  • Do the school drop off in my gym kit!  Hell, why stop there???  Do the school pick up in my gym kit (and I am not sure if I will bother showering in between!);
  • Breeze into the school looking coiffed, manicured and waxed (in all visible places at least) be it for drop off or pick up – be the Mum everyone wishes they were (I don’t really mean that.  I respect all Mums, especially those who juggle work with parental duties!);
  • Reverse the aging process;
  • Regularly attend the salon for beauty overhaul/maintenance – hair (so much hair in so many places it shouldn’t be!), nails and massages that will knead out the 8 year old knots in my shoulders;
  • Sit by the pool or on the beach and read a book/snooze/soak up the sun/smile at how fantastic doing this as opposed to banging my head against (i.e., working) a brick wall would be;
  • Meet friends and other mums for coffee mornings.  Gosh, I will be able to attend my first ever school coffee morning!
  • Go to the movies and watch a movie that is not produced by Disney, Pixar etc….anything that is not a PG rating!
  • Grocery shop in peace (not near the top of my list….but still an experience of my distant past which I would like to repeat again!);
  • Go to Dragon Mart and buy some light shades for my house in which I have been living for 4 years (I am sure the naked light bulbs are affecting my eyesight!);
  • Enhance the interior design aspects of my house (anyone who has seen my home will understand this – see previous point!);
  • Work out regularly.  I dream of getting up with the kids, throwing on my joggers and when I kiss them goodbye on the Daddy school run, I head to Barsha Pond Park and do a few laps of the running track under the smiling sun;
  • Believe it or not, my next wish which follows on from Barsha Park exercise is to head to Union Co-Op to see what’s on offer (I only recently discovered Union Co-Up – I knew it was there….I have just never had enough time to go there!);
  • Learn Arabic;
  • Work on school projects that require a lot of glue, sticky tape, cutting and painting;
  • Re-learn French;
  • Focus on Mindfulness;
  • Learn to play an instrument;
  • Prepare dinner (again, anyone who knows me knows that I enjoy cooking as much as I enjoy trying to find the right curtains for my house (or should that be fear cooking as much as I fear choosing the wrong curtains for my house – which I have done twice now!) and serve up Master Chef recipes which my kids will wolf down, and which DH will be excited to come home to every evening!
  • Join a running (read: plodding) club;
  • Bake healthy, organic cookies and muffins for my kids to take to school, and be the envy of all mums, working or not!;
  • Help out more with school fundraising activities (having spent 2 out of the last 3 years as class rep, I really don’t think this is all that high on my list!);
  • Housework….will keep on top of it if I can!

I could go on with what looks like a new years’ resolutions list…..But somehow this is different.  I no longer have the excuse of ‘not having time’.  I will have time. However, yesterday the boss told me I add value.  Translation – I will have to work my 3 months’ notice…..Dreams be patient – we shall meet in May!

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Winter Olympics in Dubai

Posted on February 19, 2014 by Dubai Mum

Since my trio have been on half term this week they have discovered the wonderful, winterland of Sochi where the 2014 winter Olympics are being held. Not hailing from a country where snow is a regular winter occurrence, as a child I recall being fascinated watching such fast, elegant and energetic sports performed at such a high level.

I also recall focusing on just one or two disciplines like the slalom and the figure skating pairs. This week my 3 have watched practically every discipline: from downhill skiing to alpine relay races; from skeleton to luges; from freestyle skiiers to half pipe boarders.

I think in part they were fascinated by the fact that countries from all around the world were competing against each other. Living in Dubai and having so many friends of a variety of nationalities, (and having very few genetic competitors to choose from) their supporters’ voices were lent to their friends’ countries. DS2 with Swedish friends fared well!

Inspired by what they had watched, by mid-week they were all begging for a trip to Ski Dubai! Keen to get them started with skiing DH took them along this morning to have a play around in the snow park and enquire about ski lessons. As they left the house wrapped up in enough fleece to cover Dubai, they chattered excitedly about flying through the air, executing daring flips and somersaults, slick tricks and winning gold medals!!!  Ahhh…..young innocent dreams!

45 minutes into their snow park adventure and DS2 was complaining about feeling cold and uncomfortable……..not a promising start for my 2026 winter Olympian!!!!

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A week in the life of Mummy (without Daddy)

Posted on February 18, 2014 by Dubai Mum

So, DH had to leave for a week on a business trip.  DH rarely travels, and when he has done in the past, it has only been for a couple of days at a time.  Even if I do say so myself, I survived this past abandonment admirably.  Given my proven survival skills, I honestly thought ‘how difficult can a full week be as a single parent?’

First stumbling block was the early morning starts!  DH usually does the ‘top and tail’ ends of the daily routine.  Everything else in between is my job.

For DD and DS1 school starts at 7:45am.  DS2 needs to be on the shuttle bus by then.  Allowing for traffic, accidents, general dilly dallying of a threesome of U9s, 7am is realistically the latest departure one can entertain.  Accustomed to eeking out every last minute under my morning duvet I was none too pleased to  have to interrupt my slumber schedule to make sure the kids were up, dressed, fed, watered, hair and teeth brushed, lunches packed, PE kits and homework where they should be……

‘Only 6 more days to go’ I yawned as I dragged myself out of my pit on day 1.

Mental note ‘earlier to bed’.

By the time I dropped the munchkins at school I felt a nap would be preferable.  Alas I resisted the urge to have a duvet day and headed down Sheikh Zayed Road to put my nose to the grindstone.

Pretty pleased with how day 1 was going, I wasn’t filled with as much fear as I rolled out the rest of the week  in my head.

Don’t get me wrong – I was still dreading Sunday and Tuesday as DD has gymnastics on those days.  She leaves the house at 7am and returns at 7 30pm. Usually DH collects her on his way home from work, saving me from hanging around with 2 bored boys for 2 hours.  This week, more than ever, I was so happy that Safa park is within a stone’s throw of the gym.

On a drizzly, dusky evening I plonked the boys on their scooters while I attempted to fit in a light jog. Maybe it was the slippery surface or perhaps it was my Dubai baby’s (like a lot of Dubai drivers) ignorance about operating vehicles in inclement weather, but less than 15 minutes into our park venture, DS2 was screaming.  Wipe out.  Soggy and mucky he hobbled alongside his scooter, refusing to get back on and crying for the comfort of  car where his favorite teddy was hanging out, and where he could watch DVDs.  Wet trousers? Check.  Wet boxers?  Check.  Wet top? Check.  Grazed elbow? Check.  No spare clothes? Check!

By the end of day 1 I was beginning to feel like how I felt as a first time mum with twins – I might look a mess, they might look a mess, the house definitely looks a mess…..but we all survived!

Day 2 saw me getting into my groove and I began to enjoy the drop off as I got to see some mums I don’t always see at pick up.  The ride to work was fine, the hunt for parking not so much.  The sense of control was dizzying!

That was until I received a text message from my helper asking for a loan as well as giving me 4 days’ notice of her sister arriving, and asking if she could stay with us until she found a job here…….Feeling slightly ambushed, I said I would speak to DH.  Given DH was mainly uncontactable during his trip I didn’t really know when I could discuss it with him.  Besides, it was not something I felt I wanted to raise during the few snatched calls we had.  It was then that I realised how much we talk about everything that happens in our lives, how much we fill each other in (probably me filling him in more than the other way around!), how pretty much all decisions in our family are made jointly.

By this stage I was mentally forbidding DH from staying away any longer than it takes to play a round of golf.

Then came the air conditioning breaking down….again….  Normally this would have irked me beyond belief but luckily it is winter!

To top it (or so I thought), Dubai was given 48 hours’ notice of the international cycling race that would be taking place over 4 days.  Used to hosting international events, I didn’t think too much about this…..until…..I realised that almost every route I took would be closed down to allow the peleton through.  I almost cried.  I am a creature of habit.  I take the same route to my destinations every time.  Diversions freak me out.  Closing main road arteries gives me palpitations.  DH was not here to chip in and help out (as he usually does).  Thinking outside of the GPS box, I felt paralysed.

Thankfully my wonderful human GPS office mate got me through it and turns out my routes were fine.  If anything they had less traffic on them!!

As we turned the bend and the finish line was in sight, I spent a very disturbed night with DS2 who was complaning of earache.  I took the day off work to sit in the clinic’s waiting room.  A tired, sickly little fellow just wanted something to make the pain go away.

I wanted something to make the pain go away!

I take my hat off to all those Mums  whose hubbies spend so much time travelling and who just get on with it (and single Mums/Dads).  I take my hat off to my hubby for the full on role he plays in our lives whilst juggling a demanding work role.

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It never rains but it pours

Posted on February 9, 2014 by Dubai Mum

‘Lashing, torrential, cats and dogs’ downpours inched their way across the Emirate this morning under cover of thick, overcast rain clouds.  Much to the delight of precipitation deprived children who jumped in every puddle they could find, and the frustration of drivers whose visibility was substantially reduced, everyone quietly acknowledged ‘it’s that time of year’.

Relieved that the sudden jump in morning temperatures from 16 to 21 degrees had been rightfully put in its place, I happily set off for work, albeit at a slower pace than normal.  I was even more relieved knowing that the words the children had scrawled on my ‘until this morning’ dusty car would finally be washed off (think: ‘poo’ ‘wee’ and such like!).

Rain in Dubai is a great break from what can sometimes feel like relentless sunshine and the ‘same old, same old’.  One of the best things about the rain is that it starts and is done (if I had written ‘dune’ here, would it have sounded too corny???) and dusted (literally because in the desert equivalent of ‘rock, paper, scissors’, the desert sand will always force the rain into retreat!) quickly.  It might last 20 minutes.  It might last an hour.  No matter how long, it always seems to last long enough to flood many places and cause havoc on the roads, but not long enough to get that feeling that you are back on London’s soggy streets darting from shop front to shop front seeking respite from the cold, sloshing raindrops.

By mid morning the rain had cleared leaving only angry, dark clouds acting ‘all that’ and threatening to inflict more chaos on Dubai’s sunny life……

Alas this morning’s downpour was not the only soaking I was destined to endure today.

As I arrived at the school to collect the kids, I had a SMS message from my helper telling me that water was gushing through the roof of her bathroom.  My first thought was ‘it must have been the weight of the rain which pooled on the flat roof of the house which was now leaking into her bathroom’.  When I spoke with her, she sounded panicked,  as if she were on a sinking ship and had been ordered to stay aboard until all passengers had reached safety.

‘It’s coming through all 4 corners.  It’s not stopping’ she added.

‘Switch off all electrical points and start sandbagging the bathroom so it doesn’t get into your bedroom’ I advised as I mentally flicked through the maintenance company rolodex wondering which company I could call upon to deal with this emergency.

Jim Will Fix It to the rescue!

Thank you chaps for sorting out my burst water tank in the same amount of time it took for the rain to flood Dubai this morning!

PS this is not a sponsored post!

 

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Tour de Dubai

Posted on February 8, 2014 by Dubai Mum

With 48 hours notice, Dubaians were made aware of the fact that an international cycling race was planned over a 4 day period in Dubai.  Not wanting to miss out on an opportunity to showcase this wonderful Emirate, needless to say, the routes were planned around Dubai’s glitzy high rises, golden rolling sand dunes and European styled cobbled streets of Jumeirah and Al Sufouh.

The fact that international giants like Rui Costa and Mark Cavendish were participating in the event went unnoticed by many of us.  The real focal point became the road closures and how this would affect everyday life for the everyday driver doing the school run, the work commute and the maze of afterschool activities’ run……

At first blush, it appeared every major commuter vein would be closed.  My mind boggled.  Refusing to believe this could be the case I immediately went into denial.  Why wouldn’t I be able to make it from one end of Dubai to the other and back again without too much hassle?  It was just insane to suggest that all major routes would be closed, effectively paralysing daily life in Dubai.

Alas my ‘ignorance is bliss’ approach was instantly shattered when a colleague, whose job it is to visit every freezezone in Dubai at least twice a day, came barging in to my office brandishing print outs of the race’s routes.

‘Have you seen this?’ she yelled in as much a controlled manner as she could.

‘The entire city is shutting down’ she added.

‘How are we expected to function?’ was the question left hanging in the disbelieving air.

Now, reading maps is not my forte.  However, my colleauge who is not as geographically challenged as me, gave me cause for concern.

‘Are you saying Sheikh Zayed road is closing at lunchtime today?’ I enquired hoping the response would be negative.

‘Errrr…..yeeesssss’ came the reply as if she were talking to the proverbial dumb blonde.

‘Along with Al Khail, Sheikh Mohammed Bin Zayed and a number of back roads’ she spat.

Panic cast its frozen spell over me.

How am I going get to the school to collect the kids?  All of my familiar routes have been shut down.

Not being able to read maps particularly well is not my only weakness.  Thinking about alternative routes around the motorway network is also a weak link.

Sensing my sheer fear and panic, my lovely roomie pulled up a Dubai roadmap on his screen and slowly talked me through the viable alternative routes from Emirates Towers to Jebel Ali.  Normally when one speaks to me about maps and routes, my brain automtically switches off.  This time it didn’t.  I had to collect the kids and I needed to know how to do it.

Being someone who rarely has cause to drive past the DIFC, I panic when the ‘trade centre roundabout’ is mentioned.  Indeed I live in fear of such traffic easing measures’.  The ‘trade centre roundabout’ is something to be feared.  If memory serves me right an OAP spent 6 weeks trying to navigate his way out of some M25 traffic calming measures…..I feared this might be me circulating the Trade Centre Roundabout…..for weeks.

Thankfully it was not needed.  Road closures had a minimal impact on my routes.

Well done Dubai….pulling off another major competition with minimal effect on your residents!

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What a day…..and we are only half way through the weekend

Posted on January 24, 2014 by Dubai Mum

We have been counting down the days to this weekend for quite some time now. The Dubai Marathon.  The HSBC Dubai Rugby Tournament and, little did we know, a penalty shoot out with Robbie Fowler!

Prompted to get back to running (read jogging/plodding despite rubbish knees) by an inspirational running couple over a few drinks at the Irish Village, I decided to register for the 3km fun run at the Dubai Marathon (clearly because I did not want to scare the 10k/marathon runners with my efficient running style!!).  Not the toughest challenge, but it’s a start.  Hoping to bond over a challenge, I asked DD if she wanted to run with me.  Like most 8 year olds, DD loves to run.  Jeez, what kid walks when they can run???  With the school running club in her future, the answer was a resounding ‘yes’.  Having just made the deadline for registering me and DD, the boys (and that includes DH) moaned that I had left them out……Given DS2 had asked ‘can I ride my bike in the fun run’, I didn’t think it worth signing him up!

However, after many moans I capitulated and registered the boys and ordered engraved medals!

Well, Marathon day’s schedule was thrown a curve ball when Standard Chartered ran a competition on Dubai Eye radio station.  Each day for a week, questions regarding Liverpool Football Club were asked.  Answers were to be sent through by text message.  As a result DH and I (separately) were each given the opportunity to enter one of our offspring for a penalty shoot out.

Date: Marathon day.

Time: 9am.

Judge: Robbie Fowler.  DS1 and DS2 were two of about five kids who managed to clock up any points in the shoot out.  Over 15 kids went home pointless.  3 boys tied on points.  DS2 was one of them.  Next began the nervewrecking, stomach churning play off.  After a few rounds of more penalties, a 9 year old went through.  It came down to the wire between DS2 and another chap.  Wishing calm on my baby he stepped up for the 5th time to strike the ball.  And as they say ‘he shoots, he scores’!!!  I couldn’t believe it.  Out of 22 kids, my baby was one of two to win the competition.  A lifelong Liverpool supporter, DH’s face said it all – disbelief, pride and happiness!!

The prize?  2 flights to England to watch Liverpool and for DS2 to be the team’s mascot!!!  As an Arsenal supporter, DS2 is none too pleased to have to don the full Liverpool strip!!!  However, I think the thought of meeting the players and walking out onto the pitch will sweeten the deal!

Fast forward a few hours and DS1 is charging his way through a myriad of rugby colour!  Yay!!!

Bring IT ON!!!!

AWESOME.

You guys are AWESOME.

I am gushing with pride for all 3.  Naturals.  Sheer joy.  Friendship.

Nothing beats that.

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Dubai 4x4s

Posted on January 18, 2014 by Dubai Mum

Dubai is the capital of 4×4 cars.  A fan of the smart car, I never thought I would see myself relishing driving a car big enough in which to camp.  Picture a monster truck with wheels slightly less huge.  That’s the preferred ride in Dubai.  Petrol is cheap.  Parking spaces are generally generous.  Cost? – Relatively sane given there is no environmental/road tax to pay.

Driving back from rugby practice today, I got to thinking about my car and what it has to offer me.  My specific criteria for cars have always been:

– Leather interior (makes for easy cleaning of dripping ice cream, snot swiped seats, melting crayons);

– DVD player; and

– Supersonic AC – we need this in the scorching desert temperatures!

However, having recently purchased a new 7 seater 4×4, my first few weeks of test driving it tell me why I really need a giant 4×4.  One look in my spacious boot said it all.  With the back seats folded down there is enough room for each of my 3 kids to have a friend over for a sleepover.  Temperature controlled.  DVD x 2.  Radio.  Better soundproofing than my house in Arabian Ranches.

As attractive as that all sounds (to a bunch of 6-10 year olds!), that’s not what amazes me about big cars.  My fascination touches on the more practical aspects of the monster.

Can I fit 4 bikes + 4 helmets in the boot? (still waiting on the pin for the external bike rack)

I need baseball caps.  How many can I fit in?

I need litres of chilled water. How many can I fit in?

I need cooler boxes filled with water, snacks, ice packs, enough food to feed a squad of hyperactive, eyes-on-the-prize 8 year olds in rugby, football, gymnastics, netball….

Can it transform into a dressing room, allowing kids to change into their required sporting attire?

Can I fit in 3 scooters?

Can I it in 3 scooters on top of the 3 bikes?

What about the picnic blanket, the 4 x foldable chairs and the sunshades?

Can I fit 2 playdates (in addition to my 3) in the car?

These are the real reasons we drive 4x4s in the desert…..

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